


carry on wayward son

by bunnieju



Series: it's cold outside [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angst, Broken Friendship, Broken Promises, Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Family, Friendship, Growing Up, Kitsune, M/M, Other, Pain, Philosophical Bullshit, Philosophy, Poverty, Regret, Revenge, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Swearing, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves, ew feelings, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnieju/pseuds/bunnieju
Summary: "Carry on, my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more."Consider this: we all die and not only is death inevitable, but it's merciless too. Jaemin knew this, that this moment in his life was his fate. Death on the job, like he predicted. Only, this knowledge didn't make it any less surprising or make him any more prepared.orJaemin is dying with one regret too many.





	carry on wayward son

**Author's Note:**

> “Death dances in everyone’s shadow, and she doesn’t give a damn.”
> 
> This is my first actual fanfiction, I'm sorry if it seems messy or underdeveloped. Here's the Spotify playlist I created while writing this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Zs2j8uyTL1IcJf3FF0MT8

Consider this: we all die and not only is death inevitable, but it's merciless too. Jaemin knew this, that this moment in his life was his fate. Death on the job, like he predicted. Only, this knowledge didn't make it any less surprising or make him any more prepared.

Jaemin didn't know what time it was anymore, they'd been tracking kitsune for ages, and now they were finally face-to-face. It was an easy job, he didn't see the need to have three of them on the job, but Renjun insisted and Jaemin loved him too much to say no, they roped Jeno into it immediately. Them being three hunters against one kitsune was supposed to ensure their victory with no casualties, but what they didn't account for was how snowy it was and how slippery snow was. And they didn't realize until it was too late.

Jaemin was unequipped to deal with this level of snow, but like all other times, he thought he'd pull through. It was a sloppy mistake on his end.

Near to the end of combat with the kitsune, Jeno slipped on ice and Renjun had been thrown into a tree, resulting in Jaemin losing focus. This trivial everyday job for a hunter had become his doom when he slipped in his concern before he delivered the knife to the kitsune's heart, and he instead was impaled by the kitsune's claws.

At first, he felt nothing but a small shock, but then came the heat as the kitsune dislodged its claws from his chest. The heat surrounding his wound was unbearable and he attempted to scream, only to choke on a metallic tasting substance he came to recognize as blood. His body was growing weaker and his legs gave up under the weight of his own body. The sound of his body hitting the snow-covered ground was synced with the anguished wails of his friends.

The ground was cold, colder than anything he'd ever felt and his wound ached in its heat that contrasted the cold. There was a ringing in his ears and the world was spinning in all directions, yet not at all. On his right fell Jeno on his knees, and his eyes came to focus on a view of Jeno holding his own head in panic. His facial expression would have been hilarious in any other situation, but at the moment when he tried to tell Jeno he was okay, he once again started coughing and gurgling blood. Jeno's face twisted in sadness and pain.

"Jaemin, you're okay, our car’s too far out from here to carry you in this condition but Renjun's calling an ambulance." Jeno gently shifted Jaemin on to his lap and lightly wrapped his arms around Jaemin as if to fight off the cold. This, however, caused Jaemin's wound more pain and he attempted to let out another scream, to the same results as previous attempts. "Renjun hurry!"

In the background, Jaemin heard Renjun hurriedly bark out information to an emergency operator and Jaemin's heart twisted in sadness, memories flashing before his eyes, both sad and happy. Staring at Jeno's panic and concern filled eyes, he remembered the first time he saw Jeno get seriously hurt. He wanted desperately to joke and tell Jeno that maybe now they were even.

That day, the waiting room was silent, save for the loud click of the clock hung on the wall and the quiet snores of a petite lady who fell asleep in the corner. The clock read 3:24 am, and Jaemin could feel the edge of the armrest from the uncomfortable hospital chair dig into his arms as the anxiety chewed him up slowly from the inside. His leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, despite his fatigue. His eyes were focused on the white linoleum floor, the day's events running wildly through his head over and over again. He couldn’t believe any of it was real.

But each time he looked up only to be slapped in the face with the words ‘Busan National Hospital’. It was all real all right, and every reminder only made Jaemin’s eyes sting more. How was he going to tell Jisung that his older brother was dying?

They’d been on a hunt all the way out here in Busan and had left Jisung doing research and going to school in Seoul, he was only 16 after all and they were supposed to be back the next day. Their downfall was the fact that they overestimated their own ages and knowledge, they’d been aware that they were new to this hunting business but being 18 and on high from the small cases they solved, they thought they’d take on something more physically challenging. 

And when they found themselves in the pitch darkness of the woods, all odds stacked against them with a supernatural creature that possessed super speed, strength, senses, and stamina, they truly realized how they were basically children, not experienced enough to be out on the field like this.

This is why all their books and online communities said the wendigo was the perfect hunter.

Jeno and Jaemin were both shaking, flare guns held tightly in their hands as they slowly walked, circling each other back to back. The woods surrounding them was staring back at them like silent sentries with pitch dark eyes, which fed the anxiety within Jaemin, aiding it to grow into an ugly beast consuming all of Jaemin’s positive emotions and Jaemin shook like a leaf in the wind. He was on the verge of tears but he could not give up. Not now.

Both him and Jeno had to make it back home alive, if they didn’t then who would take care of Jisung? After all, it was just Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin against the world. 

“Help! Help!” They heard a young girl’s desperate voice coming from the woods to Jeno’s right. “Oh my god! Help me! Please!”

Jaemin and Jeno were shell shocked - they knew that windigos could imitate human voices, but it sounded so real that Jaemin was considering heading in its direction. “Don’t move, Jaemin,” Jeno’s voice came out as a hurried whisper. “This is what it wants, to take advantage of your kind, ‘help everyone’ nature and separate us.”

The girl began wailing in what sounded like pain. “Please! Oh my- There’s so much blood! Someone help me!” Her voice increased in volume and it left a ringing in Jaemin’s ears. Jaemin’s body was shaking with distress and panic.

“No! Jaemin, no!” Jeno’s voice cut through her wailing. “It’s not real, she’s not real, but I’m real. I’m here and I need you to focus on me, and helping me kill this son of a bitch.” 

“Okay…” Jaemin said, voice unstable and cracking. “I’m okay...She’s not real at all.”

Her wailing quieted down and slowly became a defeated hiccup, one that Jaemin very familiar with, immediately his head hurt and his heart sunk in his chest. Flashbacks to him holding his mom’s dead body yelling similar words plagued his consciousness. Desperation. Pain. Confusion. Help me.

“Please...please...just help me.” And with that he took off in her direction, leaving behind Jeno’s shouts for him to come back. He ran until he realized the wailing had completely stopped, and his head was finally clear of the images that plagued his nightmares. Jaemin then realized he was screwed.

His breathing started getting heavy and his eyes stung with tears, both he and Jeno were going to die, and it was his fault. 

His hands shook as he held his flare gun tighter and raised it to point in random directions he heard rustling from. Suddenly, the woods went still and scarily silent, then a familiar voice broke through clear as day.

“Jeno!” Jaemin paled, it was his voice. The Wendigo was using his voice to lure in Jeno. “Jeno! I’m stuck and there’s so much blood!” Panic raised in Jaemin’s chest he had no idea what to do.

“Jaemin!” Jaemin heard Jeno’s voice from a distance to his left. “Where are you?”

“Over here! Hurry! It hurts so much!” The wendigo answered using Jaemin’s voice.

“No! Jeno!” Jaemin started running in what he thought was Jeno’s direction. “That’s not me! This is me! Don’t listen to the Wendigo, just run away!”

“What? Jaemin stop playing!” Jeno yelled back. “There is a literal wendigo about to kill us!”

“Jeno, I’m not joking, he’s using my voice!” Jaemin answered just before the wendigo also answered. “No! Jeno, I’m bleeding out here! Why would I be joking! He’s using my voice to make you abandon me!”

Jeno stayed silent, and Jaemin was still running in his general direction. “Jaemin, what do you mean?” Jeno suddenly yelled out. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” Both Jaemin and the wendigo answered at the same time. Jaemin could now see Jeno’s bright orange hoodie in the near distance and sighed in relief. Jaemin was so close now he could see how Jeno’s entire body shook out of fear. Jaemin was near to Jeno when a blur came out nowhere and hit into Jeno, causing Jaemin to pause right in his tracks.

Jaemin watched as the wendigo ended up with Jeno up against a tree, claws digging into his stomach as Jeno yelled in pain. Jaemin then pinched himself and brought up his flare gun, quickly shooting at the wendigo’s back.

The wendigo lit on fire and his body turned to ash before his eyes, leaving Jeno to fall on the ground, slumped against a tree. The scene was horrifying and Jaemin sprinted into action, running to Jeno to assess his wounds. “Oh my god! Oh my god!” Jaemin dropped to his knees in front of Jeno, and raised his hands mid-air not knowing whether to touch him or not. His mind was going at 100 miles per second and all he could do was watch.

“Come on, Jaemin,” Jeno groaned, holding his stomach in pain. “Focus on here and now, you and I are here now.” Jaemin swallowed thickly, breathed in and then out.

“Okay, Jeno,” Jaemin offered Jeno a nervous smile. “I’m going to lift you to get to the car.” Jeno closed his eyes and nodded, breathing heavily. With that Jaemin placed Jeno’s arm over his own shoulder and now here he was. The room was beginning to suffocate Jaemin, he couldn’t handle the thought of his dear Jeno on that gurney, in pain as the doctors yelled orders in attempts to save him.

But Jeno didn’t die, he pulled through and lived to learn from their stupid mistakes. Jaemin broke down into sobs of relief when a doctor walked through the emergency doors into the waiting room and told Jaemin that Jeno had been stabilized and was ready for visitors. 

Above every door he passed was a large plastic sign, blandly white with a black, all-caps font, depicting numbers in ascending order. 234...235...236...the numbers flew over his head as he dragged his tired legs past them slowly until he got to a number that registered as the number he was told.

The hospital room itself had as much personality as the rest of the institution, devoid of beauty and hope, with clean beige walls and white linoleum floors. There were no decorations at all, only the limp curtains that divided the room into two and blocked off view of the beds, in an attempt to provide a facade of privacy. The curtains themselves were a faded shade of green that had seen too many bleachings, devoid of all of its brightness. Jaemin walked to the dividing curtain farthest to the door, where the doctor had let him know Jeno was, and stood in front of it for a moment, hoping for the subtle scent of bleach and sadness to somehow give him a little more courage. But it wouldn’t. It would just continue to suck the life out his soul and weight down his heart with heavy stones of guilty.

“I know you’re there, I can see your clapped looking high tops from under the curtain.” A familiar voice came weakly from behind the curtain and Jaemin could feel his heart sink deep deeper in his chest. Jaemin slowly raised his hand to grab onto the edge of the curtain and pulled it to reveal Jeno.

The hospital bed he laid on was an electric bed framed with white, with crisp white sheets and its back support adjusted to a position in which Jeno was half-sitting and half-laying. Jeno looked like shit. His hair was oily and matted against his forehead, face, and body littered with small bruises and scratches, body visibly exhausted and eye bags darker than ever. His wound, however, was hidden beneath the baby blue hospital gown and a blanket the same shade of sad green as the curtains. 

Despite how shit Jeno looked, the smile he gave Jaemin was one that made Jaemin feel like the sun had dropped out of the sky and made its home in Jaemin’s heart. It shined like stars with no city lights to dim their glow, and Jaemin felt a little more happy, a little more human, a little more guilty. Jaemin closed the curtain behind him and took careful slow steps towards the side of Jeno’s bed, a tear falling from his eyes with every step.

“It’s okay, Jaemin,” Jeno’s smile shone brighter, his becoming small crescents. “I’m okay.”

But the tears continued to slip down Jaemin’s face. It wasn’t okay. “It’s my fault,” Jaemin’s voice cracked and he attempted to wipe at his non-stopping tears. “It’s not okay, I nearly got you killed, Jeno!”

“No, Jaemin,” Jeno’s smile dropped into a softer, more gentle version. “We were being stupid teenagers with issues, that bit of more than they could chew. We should have both been more realistic and careful.”

That was Lee Jeno, the boy who radiated light within his own darkness. It was the kind of light that seared into your retinas forcing you to close them in fear of going blind, a light to rival the sun itself. They’d only known each other for a few months, but Jeno was the pillar of Jaemin’s life. There was no better friend than their support, Lee Jeno, the boy who held his hand through all his fears.

And when his mind and body felt like a cage, on nights where he couldn’t do anything other than mourn the past that left him broken, Jeno was the one who taught that all his cage did was lie and that he deserved to soar in open sky. He took out the pain and made it bearable by still seeing the person Jaemin truly was. No matter what, Jeno stood firm, reassuring, and most of all, kind. 

In turn, Jaemin would try to do the same. He was no Jeno, all he could do was love him and hold him through the storms that ripped his roof from over him and made a mess of his feelings. Sit with him through the screams and nightmares that plagued his nights. He vowed he would protect and be there for Jeno and Jisung for as long as he lived, eventually extending all of it to the other boys that appeared to brighten his dull and painful life.

Jeno lived and he continued to be there for them all, alive and well, so, no, they weren’t even. 

Jaemin was dying and the realization made it feel like the air dropped 20 degrees in temperature. Jeno stared in shock at Jaemin, running his hand over Jaemin’s cheek and Jaemin couldn’t help the tears that escaped his eyes, a sob leaving his lips in form of a bloody cough.

A small distance to his left Jaemin caught sight of Renjun clutching his phone to his ear with his shaking hands while staring at Jaemin’s form on the snow-covered ground. “No Chenle- I don’t know what to do...the emergency operator said an ambulance would be here soon, but there’s so much blood, Chenle.” Tears filled Renjun’s eyes as he held a hand to his mouth and let out a quiet sob. “Is Jisung there?”

Jaemin realized Renjun was calling home. Oh god, how he would miss home. Their home.

In ‘DREAM HQ’, Renjun’s bedroom was the farthest door from the living room, because at the end of the day Renjun enjoyed his privacy the most. His door was a shade of dark blue, covered in glow-in-the-dark stickers that had long given their last glow and hand-painted doodles of science symbols. The door was hand-painted by Renjun, an art piece that took a week to complete, and while he often says that he hates how it turned out, Jaemin knew that it was his most loved artwork.

Immediately upon entering, one would notice the clutter that manifested itself on most surfaces in the medium-sized room. On the right side of the room was a brown bookcase, built by Jaemin for Renjun’s book collection, filled with books on all genres ranging from fantasy books to scientific research to lore literature. The books from the bookcase, however, were strewn across the shelves, some even placed on the floor in front of the bookcase. In the middle of the wall across from the bookcase sat Renjun’s bed, the only full bed in the whole apartment, and its surroundings filled with stacks of books and papers and empty water bottles. 

To the left of his bed was his closet, the least cluttered mess of the whole room, because, despite it all, Renjun own very little other than his books. Next to his bookcase, a few feet away sat Renjun’s desk, known to everyone as the only thing that Renjun kept clean in his room. The desk was a gift from Mark and was a witness to all Renjun’s all-nighters and research work. Its surface was empty aside from the purple paint splattered cup that held all his pens and usbs and a small lamp on one corner. Above his desk, a corkboard hung, meant to hold reminders, but now sitting filled with photographs of all that is important to him: his friends, his memories in exploring Korea, his artwork.

Renjun’s room itself was an organized mess, but to Jaemin it was comfort.

Rain pattered onto the bedroom window as Renjun and Jaemin laid facing each other within the mess of blankets on the bed. It was a regular night for them, laying in each other’s company and talking the universe, yet nothing at all. At that moment Renjun was telling Jaemin about a newly published research paper he read that morning, yet Jaemin could only focus on how beautiful his friend looked in the moment. Renjun’s eyes sparkled with ideas and love for knowledge, and how the dim purple light graced his face made Jaemin’s heart move with joy and love. 

Renjun then halted mid-sentence and stared at Jaemin, making Jaemin frown, then furrow his eyebrows in concern when he caught the look of sadness in his friend’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jaemin asked after a few beats of silence. “Are you tired?”

Renjun closed his eyes and sighed, then reopened them after a small moment. “Yeah...I…” His lips immediately started quivering and his eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’ve just been feeling so sad lately.”

Jaemin closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around Renjun, while using the other to wipe away the tears that were falling from Renjun’s eyes. “It’s okay to feel sad sometimes, Renjun...Tell me what’s bothering you…”

“Lately I’ve wondered what it would be like if you guys didn’t save me from those asshole hunters… what if I died in that vampire nest...maybe even if I didn’t exist at all.” Renjun buried his face in Jaemin’s shoulder and Jaemin could feel the tears through his shirt. “And I just- I can’t help it, I’m so tired of living like this. Never knowing what tomorrow will throw at you, whether it’s death or...”

“I...I don’t know what to say to make it better, Renjun,” Jaemin paused, feeling so unhelpful and deep in his anguish for his friend’s confession. “All I can say is: life is our best ally and worst enemy. Sometimes it leads us to places that become the scenery of our next nightmares, and through it all, it still expects us to fight as if we’re machines.”

Jaemin’s eyes were then drawn to Renjun’s corkboard. “But our job is to remember that these negative thoughts and memories don’t represent all our being. Our job is to remember the good places we’ve been to, the places that make up the purity and love of our best memories, and carry on hoping for more time to soak in that fleeting happiness of those better days.”

With that Renjun began sobbing, and the only further thing Jaemin could do was hold him.

That was a few months ago, and Jaemin never asked Renjun whether he still felt like that. It hurt that he couldn’t do much for his friends, but it hurt the most that he won’t be around to hold him through anything ever again.

Above him were polar-white stars gleaming and glittering like scattered moondust in the sky. All of them were beacons of hope for all the lost souls of the world, or more realistically, shards of the shattered souls the world deemed collateral damage in its ‘master plan’. But really, was there even a general plan for this world? Was there even a God? Why were they there in the first place?

As a young teenager, Jaemin accepted the permanent uncertainty he’d have to live in, but after those moments in that kitchen where he held his parent’s cold, bloody, dead bodies, he couldn’t accept bullshit excuses of ‘God works in mysterious ways’. No, if there was a God, they were a sadist with toxic dark humor.

He’d seen what this life had done to those he loves. He’d seen people pick apart their own lives in a disaster, looking for hope, an answer, just meaning to something. He himself had been faced with all these questions, but the situation that left the most weight on his heart to this day took place in DREAM HQ’s very own kitchen.

The kitchen had granite counters, well maintained stainless steel appliances, and was well-equipped with utensils on hooks, in contrast to the slight clutter that took over the counters and island in form of cereal boxes and cookie boxes, and cabinets were filled with miss matching cups and plate sets. The sunlight shone through the window above the sink, bathing the kitchen in natural light. The sun was just beginning to set and the beautiful bright hues of pink and orange seemed to contribute to the cozy vibes the kitchen radiated. The familiar sound of the metallic clatter of pots and pans filled his ears as he sat on a chair at the island hand in a box of Coco Puffs. The house was empty, as no one else was due home until dinner.

In front of the stove, on the other side of the island, stood Donghyuck with his back to Jaemin. His sun-kissed skin glowed in the light that fell through the window and his red-dyed hair was unstyled and messy. The shirt he had on was some sizes too big and his long pajama pants were worn and faded. Despite all this, Donghyuck was beautiful. He was beautiful from the depth of his eyes to the gentle smiles he gave Jaemin. He was beautiful from the moles that adorned his skin like stars to the scars on his body that told countless stories of their line of work. He was beautiful from the witty comments used to tease others to his sweet, joyful laughter that bounced off the walls. 

“Hey, Jaemin…” Donghyuck spoke up from his position while stirring sauce in a pot. “What do you think is the meaning of life?”

Jaemin removed his hand from inside the cereal box and placed the box to the side. “What do you mean?” He leaned forward on the island, elbow resting on the table and hand supporting his chin.

Donghyuck moved to the counter top to his left and began chopping vegetables, not even glancing at Jaemin. “What do you think is the meaning of all of this? Of us being here at this specific time and experiencing these specific things?”

Jaemin didn’t know how to answer. He’d thought about it often, but he never came to a clear conclusion. What was the meaning of life? Was there any at all? Why can’t we help falling in love? Why did we start believing in God, and whose god should we believe in now? Are stories more than the tales we tell to other people?

Surely and truly, it was an unanswerable question.

“I believe that we are not responsible for the meaningfulness or meaninglessness of life, but that we are responsible for what we do with the life we've got.” Jaemin finally replied after a period of drowning silence. “The question isn’t the meaning of life, it should be how you live your life.”

Jaemin watched as Donghyuck’s shoulders dropped and he placed his knife on the counter. “Then answer me this…” Donghyuck held on tightly to the edge of the countertop, back still to Jaemin, as if to support himself. “Is life even worth it?”

“...It’s up to you and what you make of it.” Jaemin hesitated. “I think life is worth living for both the good and bad moments that make us who we are.”

“I don’t want your philosophical bullshit, Jaemin.” Donghyuck grinded his teeth. “Take your philosophy as a costume to the clown fair, I want a real straight forward answer.”

“I don’t know.” Jaemin answered truthfully. Donghyuck lowered his head for a moment, raised the back of his hands to his eyes, then picked up his knife and continued chopping vegetables.

Jaemin hoped that he could one day come to Donghyuck with an answer, but in the moment he was as sincere as he could be. He didn’t know why he was living, nor why he never stopped living. But during those empty nights laying on his bed where every emotion of anger, sorrow, and guilt would course through his veins, he’d lean over to pull his handgun from the drawer in his nightstand and contemplate. He’d take off the safety and hold it to his own head, then imagine if his hand slipped and pulled the trigger. He’d then put his finger on the trigger, but images would fly through his head: promises he’s made, things he’s never accomplished, people he loved. And back in the drawer the handgun would go, to collect dust until the next night.

It was a sad reality. The world gave the worst treatment to beautiful souls, and made them fight for their own lives through every disaster ‘God’ could think of. From natural disasters that left them homeless to pick up pieces of their lives, to the human disasters that preyed and attacked their weakest points, leaving them with permanent scars and shattered souls. Perhaps what they had most in common was the spirit of death that lingered over them, and brought suffering to the masses. 

All his friends were a victim of this life, but the one that Jaemin was worried about the most was Chenle. No, Chenle wasn’t a hunter, but he lived a more dangerous life, preyed on by death, crime, exhaustion, and even just corporate assholes.

Seoul was dominated by high rise buildings, cars, and pavement, but near one of Chenle’s jobs was a small park, it’s green area largely contrasting the concrete jungle that had become their home. It wasn’t often that Jaemin visited that park, there was simply no time between hunting and just living, but every once in a while Jaemin would hold a picnic for Chenle and his siblings, it was the least he could do for them.

See Chenle’s story was like those of millions across the world. He lived a life labeled as the ‘working poor’, and although he’d spent his life with people pointing fingers, telling him he was incompetent, he was just a victim of it all. This life was all he'd known. 

His mother and father married as ‘high school sweethearts’ and started their family immediately after high school. By nineteen, his mom had been pregnant with him, the oldest of three to come, and his father was working a low paying job. They were a bit unstable, but they were in love and happy. Until they weren’t.

After living five years unhappy, his mother had abandoned them fourteen years and three kids into her marriage, leaving a broken-hearted single father. But they stayed afloat, at least for a few years, until at sixteen Chenle’s father took his own life. Chenle, as the oldest, was left scrambling to pick up the pieces and ensure that he and his siblings were never separated. Chenle never mourned, he did paperwork and searched for a temporary guardian, finally convincing Grandma Jeon to be their guardian, at least on paper.

He had never returned to school. He had remained working dead-end jobs since he was sixteen - low pay and no benefits, great for the employer, but deadly for the employee. He fell under the judgment and harsh stares of people who were privileged enough to never have to wonder how they’d live the next day. And he never knew how to escape his life. A bad hand dealt to him, he was a slave not to a human, but to a life.

When he had met Chenle, he seemed mature. Chenle had looked the feral werewolf in the eyes, and without any prior experience of anything supernatural, drove Jaemin’s discarded silver knife deeper through its heart, saving Jaemin’s life. Posture strong and firm to the untrained eye told Jaemin stories of a frightened child who was never allowed to dream. His hardened look and stone-cold gaze served as a front for the desperation and despair that crawled under his skin, chipping away at his soul every day. His eyes were hollow, and exhaustion clung to him like a jacket, weighing down his bones, a testament to the vast experience he’d had, and not all of it pleasant.

Jaemin vowed loudly then and there, that he would protect Chenle for as long as he lives.

The path to where they were now was filled with anger, distrust, and error, but the result was as beautiful as that spring day in the park. The calm relaxing shade of blue in the sky supported the clouds and sun. Under the sunshine every hue was kissed into brilliance, an artwork worth seeing, the world painted anew with every color from relaxing pastels to warm greens to burning reds. The grass flattened under the wind in shimmering waves, each blade turned momentarily to bask in brilliant sunlight. As Jaemin laid under a tree, on the soft blades of grass, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the warmth and love that the day raidated.

The peace was shattered by a child, running and screaming with delight and Jaemin opened his eyes to see behind him another child also yelling in joy. Heads turned and a dog barked as their excited screams echoed through the park, but Jaemin’s lips turned upwards into a loving smile and he quickly sat up to open his arms the widest he could. There, running towards him, were Chuan and Yuqi, Chenle’s younger siblings, and behind them ran Chenle backpack swinging wildly behind him, trying to catch up to the children. Yuqi and Chaun jumped into Jaemin’s arms once at a reasonable distance, knocking the wind out of Jaemin and tumbled him back onto the grass.

Laughter filled the air as they spread out their large old blanket and unpacked the food Jaemin had made; no one could be as happy as Jaemin in that moment, except maybe the children themselves. To them, happiness was simple. Happiness was waking up to a new day with new chances to play ‘Tag’ or ‘Hide and Seek’. Happiness was seeing Grandma Jeon from three doors down wave at them in the hallway of their rundown, neglected building. Happiness was yelling out in joy when Jisung agreed to play pirates. Happiness was going to school and learning something new to tell everyone about. Happiness was being able to spend those few moments in Chenle’s warm embrace every night before bed. That was the beauty of being a child, the untainted innocence that had them as content and ambitious for the future as ever, and Jaemin envied that.

Across from Jaemin, sat Chenle having a fast-paced conversation with Yuqi and Chaun about how ‘aliens invented peanut butter and jelly sandwiches’. Some people wore a smile, but Chenle’s entire being was the smile. Jaemin loved the way his voice quickened when he sparkled with new ideas, and how in conversation he lost himself, forgetting all masks he wore for others.

Eventually, all the food had been consumed and the children ran a few feet away to the small playground within their range of sight.

“Thank you.” Chenle’s smile came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him, as the sunlight brought a glow to his blond dyed hair. It was beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me, Chenle, it’s the least I could do…” Jaemin trailed off, his mouth automatically turning downwards into a frown. “I just wish you’d let us help you out more.”

His smile died faster than a candle flame in the wind, and Jaemin couldn’t help but feel a fist of guilt punch repeatedly into his stomach. For a moment, they sat knee deep in silence, the air heavy around them. Chenle then let out a slow controlled breath, in an attempt to loosen up his rigid body.

“I don’t want to be a burden for any of you.” Chenle sighed, the started chipping at the edges of his nails. “You’ve done so much for me, I don’t want you guys to think I’m only using you and...just the feeling of being so incompetent that I can’t take care of my own siblings, much less myself, and having to receive help from some people outside of my family, is terrifying and humiliating. I’m a working adult, I should be stronger than this.”

Jaemin was stunned into silence, by Chenle’s words. He had been such a bad friend, that he’d just thrown away the idea that Chenle rejected all help because he was insecure about not being able to provide the best life for his family himself. He’d thought that Chenle knew that everyone at DREAM HQ thought not only of Chenle, but also Chaun and Yuqi, as family that they’d protect regardless of anything, because they loved each other enough to conquer oceans to save each other.

“Chenle…” Jaemin swallowed the lump in his throat and stared off towards the playground where Chaun and Yuqi were playing and screaming with joy. “Chenle, you are family to us. You’ve always been family since the moment I laid eyes on you the day we met, and I vowed to protect you forever, right to your face. I wasn’t joking. You’re like my little brother, and I’d trade everything for you because you are my world. We love you so much, you would never be a burden on us.”

Chenle’s silence encouraged Jaemin to continue further. “You are a being, not a burden. A being with needs, hopes, regrets, dreams, and nightmares. I’m sorry you had to grow up so soon, I’m sorry the world has only ever spat disappointment on you. I’m sorry you ever had put on a facade to mask the child you deserved to be. You don’t have to hold this weight on your own, saying the words ‘I need your help’ doesn’t make you a burden. It further proves you’re a being that breathes, falls, rises, as human as you exist. You’re suffering isn’t a burden. Chenle, we love you so much, just let us help you with this weight dragging you down.”

A long moment of silence hung thick in the air before the wind was knocked out of his lungs for a second time that day, this time by Chenle and they fell back onto the grass. Chenle shook like a leaf in the wind in Jaemin’s embrace and that prompted Jaemin to just hold on tighter.

That day would forever be held in his heart as one of his most cherished days with the Zhongs, and on his nightstand in his bedroom stood a picture of the three of them that day. Chenle sitting on the grass with both Chaun and Yuqi sitting on his lap, the three of them smiling the same brilliant smile Jaemin had fallen in love with. Around Chenle’s shoulders was Chaun’s baby quilt, worn as a cape, to symbolize him being the superhero to their story.

Laying on the snow-covered ground, Jaemin felt the coldest he’d ever felt. The heat of his wound slowly erased by the wave of emotions that washed over him like heavy water, pinning him to the ground and drowning him in the cold embrace of sadness. Every second that ticked forward ate away at his soul and all he could think about was his failures in his short life. But then he could think about the successes that those failures brought him down the road.

One of them was Jisung. Jisung who he’d remember as the small, scrawny, shy boy he’d met all those years ago. And the night in which he’d witness the true growth of Jisung into such a confident, determined, kind-hearted person.

That night Jaemin laid under the covers of his bed, awake but absent-minded, he had been like that since he’d arrived back home two hours before. 

It was a void, a never-ending dark void that chewed scratched at his soul, and left him feeling hollow. Empty. On the outside, he looked tired and worn, leaves and dirt and various other gunk from the forest adorned his unruly mess of dark hair, cuts and bruises decorated his face and the mud and blood stained his tattered clothes. He looked like a soldier returned from a bloody battle, a ghost of a lively man that had seen his own innocence tainted by demons and monsters but could do nothing.

The silence in his room was interrupted by three knocks on his door that rang loudly through the air. Jaemin ignored the knocks, however, his door slowly crept open anyways, and Jisung poked his head through then stepped in and closed the door behind himself.

His eyes showed a kind of gentle concern Jaemin would never forget. Jisung made his way across the room and sat at the edge of Jaemin’s bed, then placed his hand on Jaemin’s left foot. It felt as if Jaemin were wrapped in a blanket of his care, however, Jaemin pulled his feet away, sitting up and scooting away till his back hit the headboard and his knees were tucked into his body.

“Jaemin,” Jisung sighed, retracting his hand onto his own lap. “I can hear all the voices screaming into your head, but ignore them, please, it wasn’t your fault and your brain logically knows it.”

“But it was, Jisung,” Jaemin croaked out then cleared his throat. “It was my fault, I was a powerless coward and only watched as they ripped her to spreads.”

“Jaemin!” Jisung looked a lot more serious now. “There was nothing you could do against three demons holding you down! Despite what everyone says you’re not a superhero!”

“It doesn’t matter because I should have been strong and aware enough to not let it even get to that point! I put her in danger by deciding to take the front exit instead of the back as everyone had planned!” Jaemin raised his voice.

“Okay, calm down…” Jisung let out a breath. “How about I tell you that wallowing in guilt won’t change the past and won’t make the future any better. How about I tell you to accept what happened, acknowledge where you are now, and carry on.”

“No, Jisung,” Jaemin gritted his teeth. “I let a woman die today, her blood is on my hands. What do you know about guilt?”

Immediately the air turned cold and heavy, and Jaemin regretted the words that came out of his mouth. Jaemin looked up towards Jisung and found the boy staring right at Jaemin. His eyes were like a fire showered in ice water, cold and sad. He was broken, shattered and taped back together the best he knew how to with his own two hands.

At the age of sixteen, Jisung had been the vessel of a demon who’d spent months murdering and torturing, and all Jisung could do was watch as more and more blood spilled on his own hands. When Jaemin had captured the demon and Jisung’s body that one day, he’d felt his own heartbreak at how young the vessel was and the fact that the boy was most likely dead. Thankfully, Jeno had found them and crashed through a window (literally) to prevent Jaemin from torturing Jisung’s body for information from the demon.

The abuse he suffered at the hands of those creatures donned scars that permanently marked his body and consciousness. Jaemin began to cry. He didn’t want to, didn’t want Jisung to see his weakness, but he couldn’t help it. He felt like the biggest disappointment to walk the earth.

“I’m sorry, Jisung…” Jaemin hit his own head back against the headboard. “That was shitty of me, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung sighed, looking away for a moment. “All that I want to say is that despite what happened yesterday, today or what will happen tomorrow, you need to forgive yourself and learn. Please, it’s not worth wasting your life moping around when you could be doing bigger things to make the future an even better place with an even better you.”

“I...Thank you, Jisung.” Jaemin looked down towards his knees, breathing in and out. He felt battered, tired, and guilty, but Jisung was right. 

“Jaemin, I’m going to start living here again.” Jisung suddenly told him. “Because I want to start helping you guys hunt.”

“Wha- H- No!” Jaemin scrambled to collect his thoughts. “Jisung you can’t come back to this life! No, it’s too dangerous! You know we can’t do that to you...You need to continue living a normal life, away from this darkness that comes with hunting.” Jaemin scooted from his place at the headboard to where Jisung sat at the end of Jaemin’s bed, then placed his hands Jisung’s shoulders.

Jisung just stared at Jaemin, pain evident in his eyes, then slowly placed his hands on Jaemin and pulled him into a tight hug. Emotions lingered in the air, thick and heavy, like a blanket, to cover the silence that danced through the room. Fragments of words, droplets of thoughts, and hollow shells of memories whirled around them, abusing and consuming all it encountered, till everything they knew was shrouded in the sadness and desperation it birthed. 

“I guess I've grown up.” Jisung buried his head deeper in Jaemin’s shoulder. “As a child, I needed protection more than I could to protect others, that's life. We need guidance and support until we can walk on our own.” Jisung then let go and pulled back, setting his hands on Jaemin’s shaking shoulders and looking him in the eyes.

“I’ve been walking my own path alone for a while now, and you know what? It’s so lonely. Now I’ve grown and I want to walk with you all, to protect you as much as you protect me.” Tears filled Jisung’s eyes and Jaemin let out a sob at his words. “I won't leave again. This is home, and I can’t handle being so far away.”

There wasn’t a single bone in Jaemin’s body that could ever say no to Jisung, despite longing to keep him safe and away from this all. All Jaemin could do was devote himself to protecting Jisung, till the day Jisung died.

“Come on, Jaemin,” Jisung smiled caringly at him, leaving Jaemin with a warmth growing in his bones. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and your bedsheets changed!”

And maybe not being able to finish his vows to protect his team would be another regret stamped onto his collection of regrets.

The amount of regrets that filled Jaemin were greater than his being. Some were small, like forgetting to buy Donghyuck's favorite ice cream on a trip to the store, or accidentally misplacing one of Renjun's books, but others were giant monsters that consumed his consciousness and reared their ugly head whenever he felt he was on top of the world. Now, this close to death, Jaemin's biggest regret is letting his friendship with Mark fall apart.

The last time Jaemin spoke to Mark was over two months ago before Mark went on his trip to hunt in Canada.

And the scene was set in Mark's room. He had just come from Taeyong's funeral, a formality after the tragedy that took place wherein Taeyong found himself in a head-to-head fight with the most silent killer they all knew so well: depression.

Taeyong didn't own much, so Mark really didn't need help carrying the box to his room, but Jaemin had other motives. Jaemin's body shook with anger as they walked to Mark's room in silence, but he was tiptoeing around his feelings, at least until they were in the privacy of Mark's room.

Jaemin walked two steps ahead of Mark until he finally arrived at the red painted door vandalized with doodles and random English words, where he turned the knob and pushed the door open, wasting no time to go a stand near Mark's desk. Behind him, Jaemin heard Mark close the door then place the box he was carrying near his bed and Jaemin twirled around, a hurricane brewing in his narrowed eyes.

"You." The venom dripped from Jaemin's mouth with just one word. Mark immediately stood up straighter and began to take off his jacket, in an attempt of intimidation, but Jaemin could care less about who was stronger in that instance.

"How could you! You knew that it was his funeral today!" Jaemin raised his voice, eyes stormy and dark. "You knew that we needed you there and you-"

"You all clearly don't understand any of this!" Mark blew up, throwing his jacket past Jaemin. "Taeyong was like my older brother! How could I go and stare at his lifeless body in a box! How could I watch a piece of me die so painfully, Jaemin!"

"He was our brother too!" Jaemin's chest heaved up and down, trying to return the air to his lungs. “You’re a selfish asshole, acting as if we didn’t feel anything! A piece of us died too, Mark! And we still came and faced this fight together!”

This is what they had come to, bodies rigid and eyes filled with hatred and anger, the walls of the room bearing silent witness to them becoming the villains in not only their own story but each other's stories.

The path Mark walked was one of hatred, revenge, and anger, and no one dared to wander on to it in their story. Mark was proof that they lived in books that had been created based on stories of the tainted, where they took the nicest souls and shattered them beyond recognition. Stories that throw us into orbit as if they were the sun, they are the only things we are. It was ironic, how Mark hadn’t only become the villain, but he held the title of most admired hero of them all. 

He didn't have super strength, he couldn’t fly or shoot lasers out of his eyes. He couldn't read minds or move things without touching them. But every day he fought to rid the world of the darkness that had tainted them. He fought villains, those monsters who lived in the shadows of our world, and those who manifested themselves in their minds, and he did it so bravely. He became a hero, a guide for Jaemin, but continued to neglect the growing darkness within himself, to save others, until it grew so heavy and dampened this weakened soul.

The thing is, while he wanted to accuse Mark of changing, the Mark that stood before him was the same Mark that held a gun to his head in that empty warehouse all those years ago. The fire in his eyes had no values, no pity, no mind, burning hot, short and violent, consuming everything in its path with no concern for the mess it left behind. The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at his soul, relentless, unceasing. It was unforgiving, brutal, satisfying, and empty. 

Negotiations with fire never work out, it’s either you put it out or let it painfully burn through every inch of you, and for a while, he thought that they’d managed to love Mark enough to replace the rage and hatred and put out the fire that burned in Mark’s veins. For a while they basked in the sweet, beautiful light, and Mark showed them parts of himself that they’d never seen before, changing the words they associated with him from toxic, controlling, temporary, to the ones they’ll forever associate him with regardless of whatever he does: leader, protective, caring, family.

But throwing kisses at a fire doesn’t make it stop.

"I always wish for a day where I don't have to fight but every day I stare down the barrel of life's gun," Mark whispered, eyes brimming with tears. "And I'm fucking terrified."

Immediately, Jaemin felt all the anger and frustration that shook his body slip away into melancholic defeat. Tears leaked from his eyes as he stared at the broken image of the man he once knew, and he let out a quiet sigh.

"As much as you hate it, you're human. You have emotions, you can cry, you can be happy, you can feel fear. You can't just ignore your feelings, Mark." Jaemin’s heart hurt with sadness. “We know what you’ve been doing, and we’ve been praying that you see that we’re here and we love you just as much as Johnny and Taeyong did and that we’d be hurt by any deals you make too.  
Because we’re family, Mark, you can’t keep running from us, and all we want is for you to be able to depend on us too, just as we depended on you.” 

With that he turned and never looked back, leaving a shattered friendship and the echoing slam of a door in his wake. 

Jaemin wasn't expecting an amazing life, just one with a little fewer regrets. He just wanted one, where there'd be clean solutions to most thing, where he could save everyone with no casualties.

But why? Why was it his job to save people? Why did his heart insist on being a hero in someone else's story, when he couldn't even be one in his own? Why did he sacrifice everything he ever dreamed of?

The stars above him shone the brightest he'd ever seen them. His vision was becoming a permanent Gaussian blur, and he realized that he had always known. He always knew that his life was a draft of a story and that God was a cruel writer. To be dying in the arms of his best friend, not being able to say another word. To know that he will never witness Jisung graduate. To know that he'll never have another movie night with Mark or Chenle. To know that he'll never have another Sunday morning breakfast with Renjun. To know that he'll never be able to truly answer Donghyuck's question. Because laying there, his blood staining the pure white snow, he himself will never know.

For a moment, he let himself relish in the glowing memories of their smiles, before the pain in his heart ripped him from that happiness, the anguish forcing him to focus on Jeno's face and then finally Renjun's quivering figure. Their never-ending wails were becoming silence in his ears and his physical pain was seeping into numbness. His breathing shallowed, to a near nothing, and Jeno gave a panicked wail, hugging Jaemin closer. Despite his desperation to stay, Jaemin knew this was the end. He could only hope he’d finally find peace, that he could finally rest.

The pain in Jaemin's eyes left, it had been there for years but what truly hurt was that the light behind the pain, that once reassured them of the good, had also abandoned them forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> SKSK I wrote this because I was procrastinating on studying for exams, fuck chemistry.
> 
> Thank you to @cntrysidejeon and @blushljns for proofreading and correcting my shit writing!
> 
> Follow me on twitter @bunnieju


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